


The Evenness He Fakes

by crookedneighbour



Series: Unironic Songfic Challenge [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Book Canon Ages, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gaslighting, Misogyny, Modern Westeros, Songfic, Unironic Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8107744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: Catelyn forces a confrontation with Roose.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to unironically start writing songfics to challenge myself. This is the first. Genghis Khan by Miike Snow: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_SlAzsXa7E

Catelyn fret with the silver bangle bracelets around her left wrist. ' _Ned's colors'_ she thinks. They had been a gift for their 11th anniversary, Ned kissing the palm of her hand as she slipped them on. The clank of them had grown familiar to her. It bothered her how much thought she'd put into what to wear. It was wrong. Ned hadn't even been dead three months, and he and Roose had been friends of sorts hadn't they? Not that Roose was even doing anything wrong she could place, but he bothered her. He had never truly crossed etiquette, but there was something skirting below the evenness he faked. It was a cheat, somewhere, far beneath his strange deadened eyes she felt a dangerous want.

It felt awful to admit this, selfish, obscene, and terrible, but feeling desirable felt nice. Perhaps Petyr and the Lannister's had worn down her resistance to flattery. And if she really were to feel this way, why Roose and not Petyr? She'd known Petyr forever and known his feelings for her. Maybe that was why though, the odd mystery of it. Petyr was an ambitious, but eager and hungry, his passion ran hot. Roose was different, older, colder. 

They'd agreed to meet at the house. Perhaps that was a poor choice. Robb had a debate club meeting after school. Roose had made no mention to his son's activities, so he was presumably free. The doorbell rang at 2:30, as expected. 

Roose was dressed a bit more casually than usual, in black high waisted jeans and a burgundy turtleneck, a dark green messenger bag slung across his shoulder.

"Come in, Roose," Catelyn greeted.

"You wanted to discuss something?" 

Roose moved with purpose to the dining room, seating himself, and beginning to unpack various files.

"I've managed all the paperwork for the inheritance. You needn't worry about that other boy being in the equation. It's all Robb's."

Roose had the appearance of absorption, neat piles of forms slowly encroaching across the length of their table. Catelyn clicked her tongue and sighed. This was proving harder than she had expected.

"No. Mr. Bolton-- Roose-- I know you and Ned were close," she started.

"I wouldn't say that," Roose interrupted. "Robert Baratheon and Eddard were close. I did what he hired me to do nothing more, nothing less."

He was so distant now. That was perhaps the worst thing about it, the inconsistency. There was no label to put on how he acted, this thing they kept between them. Catelyn sat down across from him.

"But there were things he trusted you with. He had a respect for you," she insisted. Something in Roose changed at this. He looked up. Her heart hurt. Those eyes, those terrible eyes, and how like Ned's they looked. It was unfair.

"Where is this going, Cat?" He almost sounded amused. A long pause. How to say it? 

"I'm a busy man...."

Catelyn weighed her options. There was no need to play her hand. Once she started this, there was no going back. She pursed her brows.

"How do you feel about me?"

Now that the words were out she regretted it immediately. She had let a girlish curiosity get the best of her, some stupid idea from a brain half-mad with grief. Roose gave her a closed lip smile.

"I see.... I'm engaged, Catelyn. You know that."

She'd forgotten Walda. Walda Frey was a squealing smiley girl and almost Robb's age. Catelyn steeled herself. 

"Being married didn't stop you before."

Ramsay's mother had been young. Eddard had tried pressing the matter with her, but all she'd said was Ramsay was a fluke, that her pill hadn't worked as it was supposed to. There was no evidence otherwise.

"You're entering deep water, Ms. Stark," Roose replied cooly. The title stung. 

Roose stood and she suddenly felt very small.  _'_ _No.'_ she thought.  _'Don't let this man bully you_. _'_

"I don't like complications," Roose murmured. His voice was a mellow whisper as he strode closer to her. "But you're headstrong. I like that. There aren't many women who can keep up with me-- intellectually."

Catelyn's stomach churned with disgust. He was a wretched loathsome man and the thought that he had even reminded her of Ned made her skin crawl.

"I think you ought to go, Mr. Bolton," Catelyn's voice was harsh. Even if she felt like the ground was slipping out from underneath her, she would not let him see.

"Whatever you like, Cat." 

Roose didn't even look at her as he packed up his things, his hand trailing along the table as he turned his back and left.


End file.
